


Best served cold

by PhoenixGFawkes



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Immortality, Introspection, Prison, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-23
Updated: 2008-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:25:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixGFawkes/pseuds/PhoenixGFawkes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eternity is not the sum of the meaningful events in life, but the endless waiting in between. Or Adam learns about Kaito Nakamura’s son and starts plotting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best served cold

Eternity is not the sum of the meaningful events in history, but the endless waiting in between. He knows this well.

He has seen the world split in two, in five, in a thousand pieces shattering with an explosion. He has seen the ground soaked in blood, he has smelled gun powder during the fury of  a hundred revolts, he has heard the silence of true desperation after the wrath of nature destroyed the land. He knows the thrill of change, air electric with passion and idealism, he knows the taste of disappointment when dreams turn into ashes.

Battles, disasters, periods of peace and rebuilding, democracy, monarchy and tyranny, elections, strikes and coups, revolutions carried in silence and peace and those consumed by the rage of flames. He has seen, lived and a few times instigated all of those, and yet he never understood what eternity truly meant until he was placed in this cell.

Eternity is not made of pivotal moments that change the course of human history. Eternity is formed by four grey walls closing in on him, an endless stream of months, days and minutes, all identical to the prior and the next one. Eternity is made of a memorized map of cracks on the ceiling, of a mattress molded to his form, of a never-ending succession of tasteless meals going down his throat. Eternity is opening his eyes to the same surroundings again and again, eternity is falling asleep knowing that morning will bring no change.

Eternity is slowly losing his mind.

He knows this all too well. Therefore, he tries to find a remedy for madness, an escape from eternity. He finds it in his memories and his plans, he gets away from his grey, dull present by seeking refuge in the past and the future. His mind is miles away from here, in another time and place, where he replays old triumphs and defeats, where he makes new designs and plots his revenge. He goes over everything he has lived, he remembers everything he did right, every mistake committed and tries to figure out the way not to repeat them ever again. He forms flawless plans in his mind, he sees a perfect world in his dreams, an utopia he knows that he could build... if only he could escape this place.

The unbearable monotony of his days is broken by bits and scrapes of news from the outside world that every now and then reach his ears. He built this demential Company from the ground, and there are many who still respect and fear him enough to give him whatever he asks for, except freedom. He might be isolated but he is not uninformed.

Daniel still values his opinion enough to pay him regular visits, one can always count on Arthur’s guilt to bring him around every now and then and Maury does not need to enter his cell to keep in touch. They all are wary of him, of course, and therefore they show caution and distrust, but he can still gather relevant information from what they – and others, less important but no less useful – let slip.

He starts to draw a map of events that take place in the world while he’s trapped here, of what happens to his former protégés and current enemies while his hands are tied. And when the right time comes, he plans to use this map to form his plans of revenge.

He learns of Maury’s firstborn, shortly after his incarceration, and wonders if the child will share his father’s gift and how he’ll be able to take advantage of it. He learns of Victoria’s departure, of Kaito’s return to Japan. Charles’s wife gives birth to a girl and Angela, to a second boy. None of them show any signs of possessing an ability, but he can wait to see it with his own eyes. Daniel becomes a powerful businessman with more connections with the mob than Maury ever had, Charles owns nearly half of Manhattan. Maury abandons his family, Yamagato Industries start to turn into a modern empire. Bob’s daughter is brought into the facility for the first time and the lights go out between her screams of agony. Arthur chooses to slice his veins open for the first time during his youngest son’s sixth birthday, guilt and the burden of his own ability weighing more than his sense of duty and his family.

He is hardly surprised.

He hears about the new generation of specials and tries to make them fit into his plans of revenge against their parents. And then, perhaps, they can help him change the world. Many of them will die in the process, of course. It is unavoidable.

He doesn’t want them dead, though. On the contrary, he hopes to achieve with this new generation what their parents failed to accomplish in their time. He is willing to guide the survivors through the rebuilding of the new world that’s bound to rise from the ashes and he’ll show gratitude to those that help him. They won’t be punished for their parents’ sins.

Fate, though, has other plans.

He finds out by the unlikest of sources. Seven-year-old Elle Bishop, all blonde plaits and big blue eyes, escapes long enough from the firm adult supervision that reigns her life and comes bouncing down the hallway, coming to a halt in front of his cell’s window. She peers inside and makes faces at him. It’s not the first time and he wonders why Bob hasn’t warned her about him. She shows neither fear nor apprehension and she should know better considering everything her own father has put her through. Apparently, certain lessons take a long time to be learnt.

She tires of her game soon enough and her little face turns into a pout. Daddy isn’t paying her any attention today. Some Chinese or Japanese guy has come to visit and they’ve locked themselves in Daddy’s study. She tried to eavesdrop but couldn’t get a word. Does he speak Japanese? Where did he learn?

She doesn’t wait him to answer. She never does: her attention can’t stay focused long enough, her mind jumps from one half-formed thought to the next without coherency. He sometimes wonders how much of it is because of her age and how much is consequence of the constant electric discharges her brain suffers.

She starts sulking and stomps her tiny foot against the floor, huffing. The Japanese guy brought his son with him, a boy not much younger than herself. But he speaks funny like his dad and his glasses are weird and she doesn’t like him one little bit.

He straightens in his seat at this words, all his senses suddenly alert. For once, little Elle has his full attention.

He inquires after the boy’s name. It takes her a moment to process the question and she scrunches up her nose, saying that he’s got a silly name, the silliest name ever, and she gives him the answer carelessly, not knowing she’s just turned his world upside down.

He freezes upon hearing the name, instantly tuning out Elle, who is now rambling about her new shoes, the poor kitten she didn’t mean to fry and her favourite brand of cereal, all at once.

It shouldn’t have been such a shock. He’s always known this moment would come, sooner or later. He waited for it a long time, he made calculations and predictions. He planned his revenge carefully, leaving nothing to chance. He was nothing if not meticulous. And now that the time has finally come, he’s trapped in his own private, grey-coloured hell.

Thanks to Hiro’s father, no less.

Four hundred years should have been long enough to move on from past betrayals, to let go of old grudges. He has gone through so much suffering, inflicted so much pain himself, that Hiro’s actions should have paled in comparison. But there were certain wounds that would not heal, certain kinds of poison that never diluted in his blood, certain offenses he could neither forget nor forgive.

He has waited years, decades and centuries to see his old nemesis again and now he was finally born into this era, of all times.

Elle keeps talking non-stop, but he pays her no atenttion, blood burning through his veins, rushing to his brain, already buzzing with half-formed schemes. Hiro Nakamura is Kaito’s son, a voice in his head keeps saying over and over again, he’s the son of the man who’s locked him up in his eternal cell.

He barely sleeps for days, reeling still from what he’s just learnt. The memories of those few weeks in Japan return with full force, and so does his wish to get away from here and set in motion his plans of vengeance.

He has not forgotten his main goal. He knows what needs to be done to heal the world. The virus will be both the Earth’s salvation and the weapon he’ll use against his enemies.

But not for Hiro. Hiro is special. Unique. He will not die quietly, painlessly. Hiro will not die until everything he holds dear perishes around him, starting with his father. He will make sure of that

For now, he waits. And schemes. He knows that the best laid plans can go awry over the tiniest details, but he is nothing if not meticulous. Soon his plan is clear and perfect in his mind.

Hiro deserves no less. He was, after all, his inspiration and now he is the reason Adam won’t lose his mind while he waits, waits and waits.

Eternity is a very long time. Thanks to Hiro, he can now endure it.

 

 

 


End file.
